Death Does Not End Love
by Daughters of Gondor
Summary: Three points of view on a love that death can't end. Implied slash.
1. Boromir's POV

Disclaimer and author notes in chapter two. We did this chapter as an after thought.  
  
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Title: Death Does Not End Love  
  
(Boromir's POV)  
  
Amon Hen  
  
It was lust at first sight. How could it not be? The elf was the most noticeable being at the council. His golden hair. Sky blue eyes. Not one flaw on the elf. He was the closet one could get perfection. His very air and grace gave off the feeling of nobility of birth and spirit.  
  
However, my illusion was shattered the moment he spoke up at the Council. He sure had a temper. Told me that I owed my allegiance to a complete stranger. On the surface, I was completely angry and humiliated. To be dressed down in front of a large gathering by an elf who looked younger than me.  
  
But somewhere far below the surface I think I became more attracted to the real him. He wasn't some vision of perfection anymore. He was real. I even have to admit that I admired the way he showed loyalty to his friend. And wished somewhere in my heart that I could have that same loyalty directed at me one day.  
  
However, my pride and thoughts of my father caused me to avoid him during the rest of my time in Imladris. I had no time for an outside relationship with an elf. My people needed me. And my father would never condone me becoming the lover of a male elf.  
  
But the elf was persistent. He kept following me around Imladris just trying to get me to talk to him. My anger over the council actually faded fairly fast. It was perhaps childish of me to keep up the game of cat and mouse, but I fairly enjoyed it. It felt nice to be pursued.  
  
He cornered me the last night we were in Imladris. He then explained that he unfortunately had a temper and he was such good friends with Aragorn that it was natural for him to defend the ranger. I smiled and told him everything would be okay and felt my heart leap with joy at the light shining back in the elf's eyes. We departed the next day as friends.  
  
Amazing how the whole thing started out with lust, but grew into something more. I felt something tug at my heart every time I saw him doing just the simplest of thing like standing watch and loosing an arrow. He did it with a style and grace completely unmatched among anyone of the race of men.  
  
I fell in love. And it was the happiest time of my life. Unfortunately there was a dark cloud on the horizon.  
  
Isildur's Bane.  
  
The reason I had come to Imladris, to seek an answer to a riddle. The answer was a simple band of gold.  
  
But not so simple because right from the start I could feel it taking me. I wanted to deny it. To say that I was a warrior and would go above all of that sorcery.   
  
The words spoken to me from the ring were words that I would never utter to another in any life. I tried to resist its lure. To simply concentrate on my new found soul mate. But my desperation for my people was my undoing.  
  
I could feel myself giving in more every day.  
  
By the time I reached Lothlorien I was practically already broken. The Lady looked right through me and saw everything.  
  
In one of my weak moments, I confided everything to the elf while in tears. He didn't judge or make any comments. He simple held me and let me cry.  
  
And in the moments that followed we gave into our love and bound our souls to each other.   
  
For the first time since the quest started, the dark was gone and all I could see was light.  
  
But the light did not stay long.  
  
I fell to darkness shortly after and almost didn't come back. Although by the time I came back it was too late. I had already been driven to betray Frodo and the cause of the Fellowship.  
  
But I guess I've atoned for that even if the price is too high.  
  
As I lie on the hills of Amon Hen taking my last breaths and pledging my allegiance to my king I'm not afraid of death.  
  
What I regret is that my love for the elf was cut so perilously short. This ring is indeed a bane if it twists your love for your people into something to suit its own purpose. And ruins any chance I had in my life to be truly happy.   
  
It didn't just ruin my happiness. It ruined the elf's as well.  
  
Father can't think to use the ring for good. There is no good in something so bound to evil.   
  
Thank the Valar I asked my elf to look after Faramir if anything should happen to me. For I think my father has been even deeper into darkness than I and will likely not return.  
  
I was so afraid to have to tell my father about my love, but as I look at his disbelieving look I simply want to shout it to the world.  
  
I don't want to die! I want to have a lifetime with my love.  
  
In my last few moments of life it is my king that is holding me, but I want the elf to come over and kneel beside me as well. I want him beside me.  
  
However, he holds himself back from my dying body with fear in his eyes.   
  
I understand.  
  
He doesn't want to believe. If he comes up and touches me he'll have to admit to himself that I'm actually dying.  
  
I feel tears come to my eyes as I think about my beloved elf. Only my body is dying love.  
  
My soul will live on. The soul that is bound to you, my love.  
  
Even into death, my soul will love you, my Legolas. 


	2. Legolas' POV

Disclaimer: As usual…I don't own anyone from Lord of the rings, or anything.  
  
A/N: This is another idea I came up with while chatting on AOL with my regular co-writer while I was trying to get over writers block for Second Chance.  
  
More notes: I know Aragorn and Arwen get married on Midsummer in 3019 of the Third Age (since Elrond is there and the Forth Age doesn't start until he leaves for the Undying Lands) but since I'm not sure when Faramir and Eowyn get married, (and this story sort of takes place at their wedding) I've decided to have them get married on Midsummer, Year One of the Forth Age.  
  
WARNING: There is character death in this story, as well.  
  
Now, on with the story.  
  
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Title: Death Does Not End Love  
  
(Legolas' POV)  
  
Ithilien  
  
First Year Forth Age – Midsummer  
  
It wasn't love at first sight. Nor was it at second or third sight. I noticed him of course. How cold I not? He was…perfect. The way he rode into Imladris with his head held high.  
  
I put on a show of not liking him, defending Aragorn when he called him a ranger, not knowing of Aragorn's true destiny. He hated me for that, for telling him he owed Aragorn his allegiance, in essence, his life.  
  
I'll admit my prince side came out. I hate that. My royal arrogance that likes to believe everyone owes royalty their lives. It comes from being the spoiled only son of an indulgent king. I was Ada's last link to Naneth, his true love, who died giving me life.  
  
Ada could deny me nothing, even the choice to love a mortal, to die with a mortal. And I made both choices. I fell in love with a mortal, a mortal who did everything in his power not to love me in return.  
  
He avoided me for days after the council, still bitter about my arrogant attitude. It was that temper of his that started my fall, I think. He made me chase him for his friendship. He became a challenge I could ignore.  
  
By the time we departed on our quest we were on speaking terms, at least. I'd managed to corner him in Imladris and explain my reaction to his insult to Aragorn. We became friends…and I slipped the rest of the way into love.  
  
I knew then, I would make the choice of Luthien for him, same as Arwen would for Aragorn. I made my decision, knowing it would hurt Ada, but I couldn't live without my love. He was my life.  
  
My decision was final the moment I gave myself to him the first time in Lothlorien. That was the moment I bound my soul to his.  
  
I was in love. I was bound. I was doomed to die.  
  
I still am. All of those things. I am still in love. I am still bound. I am still doomed to die. I will merely die sooner now, once my promise is fulfilled.  
  
My love was taken from me a little over a year ago now; a mere month after my choice to die with him was made. He was taken cruelly, slowly, painfully. If Aragorn had not killed the monster who murdered my love I would have. Only he would have died just as cruelly, just as slowly, just as painfully. More so.  
  
He would have lost more than an arm before I allowed him death. Both arms, a lot of blood from many cuts. And finally, after he suffered, I would have cut the cold black rock he had for a heart out, as he ripped my heart out when he killed my love.  
  
I stood back, frozen to the spot, as I watched my love die in Aragorn's arms, professing his loyalty to his king. I wanted to go to him, to hold him as he breathed his last. But I couldn't. If I touched him, held him, it would mean it was real. My love was dying.  
  
My heart screamed it wasn't happening. He couldn't be dying. As long as I didn't hold as he died it wasn't real.  
  
Even as we carried his body to the river and placed it in one of the boats, I couldn't make myself believe. It wasn't until I watched the boat go over the falls that I believed.  
  
I wanted to go after it. I wanted to throw myself over Rauros and die with him. But the promise I'd made a few days earlier came back to me.  
  
My love came to me in camp our first night out of Lothlorien, as if he knew something was going to happen to him. He told me of his brother, of the abuse Faramir had suffered at their father's hands.  
  
He made me promise to watch over Faramir if he didn't make it. I gave him my word, not knowing I'd lose him only days later. I'm bound by that promise. It's become my personal quest. I can't follow my love until it is fulfilled.  
  
Now, as I watch Faramir kiss Eowyn for the first time as her husband, I can't help but smile. Not only because it's a happy moment: Faramir is married to the woman he loves. My true reason for smiling is much more selfish.  
  
Mt promise is fulfilled, my quest finished. I looked after Faramir until he no longer needed me. Eowyn will take my place now. I can join my love. My Boromir.  
  
I can finally bring myself to say his name, if only to myself. I will see him soon. I can say his name.  
  
I am coming, my love. My Boromir. I'll be with you soon. I'll pass up Mandos if I have to so I can spend eternity with you wherever the edain go after their lives are over. I lost you in life. I won't lose you in death as well.  
  
I will spend eternity with my beloved Boromir.  
  
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Elvish translations…  
  
Ada/Naneth: Father/Mother  
  
Edain: Men or humans 


	3. Faramir's POV

Disclaimer: Read chapter one  
  
A/N: I'm not sure what is considered a proper Elven burial so I'm just saying they cremate their dead since it works for this story.  
  
Now, on with the story.  
  
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Title: Death Does Not End Love  
  
(Faramir's POV)  
  
Eryn Lasgalen  
  
He's gone. Legolas is dead. It came as somewhat of a surprise to all of us. He'd seemed so happy, so alive a week ago when he congratulated Eowyn and I on our marriage. He shouldn't have died.  
  
Looking back, though, we all should have seen it. Several elves attended Aragorn and Arwen's wedding a year ago. They all had their own unique inner light. We should have noticed Legolas' light was dimmer, more…faded.  
  
It's been said that elves can fade from a broken heart; I never really understood the full meaning of that. I don't think even Aragorn did. We should have known Legolas was fading. If not us, than the other elves should have. He grieved for my brother and a love that had been taken prematurely.  
  
My first impression of Legolas wasn't that he was beautiful, though I've not seen any except Lady Arwen who could compare, seeing as how they both are one of the First Born. My first impression of Legolas was a heart wrenching sadness.  
  
The first time we met face to face, he seemed to fear me, as if he was looking at a ghost. I did not understand. Why would an elf fear me? A mere man.  
  
It wasn't until Aragorn told me of the love between Legolas and Boromir that I finally understood. Many times I've been told I resemble Boromir. People new to Minas Tirith, those who didn't know us, sometimes thought us twins, the resemblance was so close. No wonder Legolas had a hard time facing me at first.  
  
It wasn't until the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen that Legolas approached me of his own will. He told me of his promise to Boromir, his promise to watch over me until I no longer needed him. My first reaction was amusement, even from the other side Boromir was playing big brother.  
  
As time passed, I realized how Legolas could win my brother's heart. He was kind, gentle. He had a unique, yet wicked sense of humor. I came to love him as well. Not as Boromir loved him. For Eowyn holds that place in my heart. But Legolas became my brother. He could not replace Boromir, no one could. But it eased the pain somewhat.  
  
That's why it hurts so much now, as I stand beside Aragorn, with Gimli in front of him, silently crying as I study the funeral pyre in front of us. I didn't only lose a friend. I lost another brother.  
  
Legolas deserves a proper Elven burial. His father, his people, demanded it. Which is why we are all in Eryn Lasgalen, formerly known as Mirkwood.  
  
Legolas' father, King Thranduil, stands beside me, holding the torch that will set the pyre aflame. It saddens me to see such a strong and noble creature cry. I cannot even imagine the pain he's feeling, the pain I would feel if any child Eowyn may give me died.  
  
No parent should have to bury their child. That's not how things should be. The parent should be the first to go. Beyond that, the elves do not die. They are eternal. That makes Legolas' death even more sad. Nothing as pure and eternal as elves should die.  
  
On the other hand, Legolas is now happy. He's with Boromir, where he has always longed to be. He died happy. With a smile that still lingers on his fair face.  
  
I cannot regret this completely. I regret that Legolas had to leave, that his family will never see him again. But I find myself glad that he's where he wants to be. With Boromir, where his heart has always been.  
  
We all step back now, as Thranduil sets the pyre on fire. Silent tears become louder, more heart wrenching. I can understand why elves burn their lost ones. It's a moment in time I will never forget. Though memories of times spent with Legolas will remain for a time, they will fade eventually. But through it all I will remember this, the way Legolas went out in a blaze of glory.   
  
One day I may not remember the slow smile Legolas had, his wicked sense of humor. Never again will I see that. Nor will I here his stories of how he saw Boromir, from such a different perspective than that of the people Boromir and I grew up with. He saw Boromir's softer side, a side no one ever saw but me. To everyone else Boromir was a warrior, cold and deadly in battle. Some feared him.   
  
It was nice to hear stories from one who loved Boromir as much as I did, if in a different way. With Legolas gone, I'll never have that again, and so too, will my memories of Boromir fade over time.  
  
It was hard finding out I'd lost my brother. I found another brother in Legolas, one who could understand my grief at losing Boromir. And now I've lost him as well.  
  
Is everyone I love doomed to die? Should I fear losing Eowyn as well?   
  
I will not let that happen. I can't let that happen. I won't lose another loved one to death. I can't. I will not survive it.  
  
Legolas once told me death did not end love. But I can't stop thinking love has the potential to end life. Why else would Legolas have died, if not for his love of Boromir?  
  
I'll not give up on love, though. It would not be either Legolas' or Boromir's wish for me. For while I live, love makes life complete. And perhaps, for Legolas and Boromir, it makes death complete as well.   
  
I have to agree with Legolas on one point, if nothing else.  
  
Death does not end love. 


End file.
